Sheep, Shepherds and Wolves
by Megz17
Summary: Mercy stumbles onto a pack member on her day off and lends some support in her own way. Takes place after Frost Burned. Oneshot


**Anything you recognize belongs to the brilliant mind of Patricia Briggs!**

The bright afternoon sunshine briefly blinded Mercy as she walked out of Phin's dimly lit bookstore. She turned to share a smile and a wave with him as he locked up behind her. Mercy had started popping in on Sunday every few weeks. He would stock shelves or do inventory and she would have tea or cocoa for an hour as they chatted. They would pass on any relevant information they had to share, but mostly just check in with how each other were doing. This visit had been just a social call as Samuel, through Arianna, had already passed on the events of the past few weeks with the pack, Fae hit men and rogue government agents.

As Mercy started off towards her Vanagon parked a half a block down, she spotted a Miata across the street parked in front of a shady basement bar. The normally pristine paint was almost completely obscured by layers of dirt and road grime, and the soft top was in desperate need of a coat of Armor All. Mercy checked for traffic and then crossed the street to the car. There were a few sweatshirts and yoga pants on the passenger seat. If Mercy had to guess, its owner was still having trouble spending longer periods of time out of her wolf form. The wolf, or coyote in Mercy's case, just had an easier time getting through the here and now when major traumas occur.

Mercy looked at her watch. It was only just past 1:30 and the hood of the car was cool to the touch in the relatively mild December day. Without thinking further, she descended the stairs into the bar.

She stopped inside the door and fought her reaction to the revolting combination of spilled alcohol and cigarette smoke. The dark wood paneling, low lighting and small stained glass front windows gave a sense of isolation from the outside world. The L shaped room had the bar and a few tables along the short side and six pool tables along the long side.

At the furthest table away, Mercy spotted Honey playing alone and systematically sinking the balls with a vacant look in her eyes. Mercy headed towards her and took Honey in as she saw the woman's jaw tighten up. She was wearing a long sleeved navy t-shirt, jeans with flats, and her hair was up in a messy bun with a few pieces falling around her face. On many women this would be an everyday outfit, or in Mercy's case one that had garnered a higher than average degree of preparation, but on Honey the departure from her usual look was dramatic.

Mercy hopped up onto one of the barstools beside the table and watched. Honey ignored her and only stopped playing to take drinks from a glass of what seemed to be three fingers of gin with limes in it. As Honey sunk the 15 ball in the side pocket Mercy finally spoke up.

"You're going about this all wrong . . . ."

Honey gave a dark laugh before turning towards her with one hand leaning on the cue and the other on her cocked hip. With yellowed eyes burning she replied with a voice dripping in sarcasm "By all means cure me of my self-destructive ways I beg of you!"

Unperturbed by the overt hostility Mercy continued "Well first off, how do you intend to fleece the unsuspecting and arrogant male population if you show off your A game like that? For cripes sakes miss a few shots to lull them into a false sense of security already! The drink is good but reach for it in the wrong spot every once in a while. While I had to pound tonic and lime to keep up the facade, you at least can have the real thing and not get overly affected! Leaving your purse open on the table with your wallet showing is also a nice touch."

Obviously not what she had been expecting to hear, Honey paused before she snorted and turned away to start racking the balls. "Passing on the skills of a miss-spent youth are we?"

Mercy shrugged and popped one heel up on the edge of the stool. "Depends on how you look at it I guess; learned in youth but utilized in college for extra spending money." After a moment she added in a musing voice "I still maintain that Bran cheats though I've never been able to catch him at it."

Honey was finishing racking as she replied in a dead tone "Well thanks for the tip, but it seems that even this dim witted crowd has the ability to read the GO AWAY vibe from afar, so I'm unlikely to find any willing lambs prepped for slaughter."

Mercy grinned at the thinly veiled insult and quipped "You never know, there has got to be at least a few more out there with a decided lack of common sense and self-preservation instincts. I somehow doubt it is _that_ rare of an affliction."

"Yes and how you survived to adulthood will remain a mystery" Honey replied in an undertone.

With a faked reaction to the insult "Hey what I lack in sense I make up for in spirit thank you very much! Though I might add in my experience there is little you can't overcome with strength of spirit."

Honey tensed and sunk a ball with a barely contained violence as she prepared herself for the expected motivational speech to be crammed down her throat.

"I was talking to Bran last night and he gave me an update on Kara, that reporter Tom Black's daughter. She just turned 16 and is looking at art schools for after she graduates. Apparently she is really good at drawing and wants to illustrate graphic novels. I'm told she drives her teachers nuts though because she is almost physically incapable of sitting still for any length of time, and even draws on a rotating bar stool while moving it side to side. Still I'm glad she found a way to thrive despite what she went through."

Honey's expression had lost its hostility and turned to more contemplative as she continued to make shot after shot. After a few minutes she asked "Where do you think Bran will send her?"

Mercy cocked her head to the side with a smirk and stated "I would put money on her being _guided_ to Seattle to The University of Washington's School of Art. Its close enough he can keep an eye on her, but give her more of a chance to grow up. She will be 18, on her own and bound to make some mistakes but Angus can be trusted to help her and but also give her space to find her own way. Bran's good at putting his strays in a position to succeed on their own when the time comes."

Honey nodded and continued to sink the last few balls and rack them up once again. She chalked the cue and tossed it over at Mercy. She caught it and raised an eyebrow at Honey. She replied to the unasked question with "Let's see how rusty your skills are" and a half smirk.

Mercy stood up with a smile "Baaaaaaaaa".

_**Thanks for reading the plot bunny that just wouldn't leave me alone! Reviews always appreciated.**_

_**Cheers!**_

_**Megz**_


End file.
